Azarathian Pride
by NumbuhZero
Summary: The nation of Azarath has found its position as just one of five kingdoms to be unacceptable. It shall rule them all or extinguish itself trying. And as the daughter of Trigon, Raven has no choice but to play her part. However she can.
1. On Pain of Death

Booted feet padded softly down the great entranceway of the most feared king on all the planet Titan. Along the wall flickering torches cast shadows on the already stomach turning ancestors of the ancient house of Azarath. The red caped figure glanced up at the occasional face, recognizing a few from the horror stories that the maids whispered to their children at night. Some were painted over ten hundred-thousand years ago, but their deeds of the past still elicited terror in the hearts of the palace workers.

Strangely enough, to a human that much time would seem an eternity. To a demon however…

Glowing eyes of fire strayed to a particularly gruesome picture of great uncle Elvion. If memory served he had the habit of eating an old woman when he awoke each morning, and a virgin before he went to sleep each night. He said it gave him wisdom for the day, and the strength for any attacks he might encounter whilst he slept. More likely he found them to be delicious. He had been killed soon after the beginning of the war.

No one mourned him.

The current ruler had a similar ceremony, but it only involved virgins, and no one was eaten. In fact, it was this particular quirk that accounted for the creation of the cloaked and hooded figure, who, upon finally reaching the massive double doors at the end of the hall, proceeded to walk through them.

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The first step into the solid gold doors was like stepping through water. It was almost solid, but not quite. After a few seconds Raven felt the tickle of a Hand on the side of her face, then thousands of them, nearly covering her with their probing tentacles. One even forced her lips apart and snaked into her mouth, searching under her tongue and behind her molars.

Hands are the first line of defense for the chamber she was about to enter, and even though they recognized her right away for who she was, in a house of demons one could never be sure which uneasy alliance would turn sour.

Finding her clean, the probes slinked off to whatever dimension from which they had been summoned, and the Princess of Darkness found herself in the dimly lit war chamber of the Azarathian nation.

"Good evening your Highness, how sweet of you to join me." A silky voice greeted her from across the room.

Raven narrowed her eyes at the speaker, and stalked over to him, blood red cloak sweeping the floor in what she hoped was an intimidating effect. "Enough with the pleasantries Slade, your mouth is fit for nothing more than biting off the heads of bats. A sport I hear you are quite fond of."

The masked man chuckled, and bowed mockingly, his own scarlet cloak flared out behind him. "You know of my deepest addiction, my dear." He looked up and winked at her. "It is almost as if we were married. A thing I am sure you will be _quite _fond of." He straitened up then and gestured to the round steel table that stood a bit behind him and to his right. He must have been looking it over when she first came in. "However, there is no time for playful banter at the moment my dear. Our beloved king will be here soon, and I must 'get you up to speed' with the latest developments."

Raven bit off the half-formed cutting remark she had been about to throw at the man and followed.

Floating above the metal desk was a full three dimensional map of the planet Titan, in its every splendid and disturbing detail, and in miniature.

Currently each of the Five Great Nations was magnetized a hundred fold, and rotating slowly over its mapped location.

Slade tapped the city closest to him with his index finger ,and for a moment the table was blank, then it reappeared to consume the entire counter space. In his infuriatingly calm and level voice he began his explanation. "Mammoth has found a position as a stable hand in the palaces main complex. He tells of a plague that has been sweeping over the nation, killing nearly a half of the population. It seems to have died down mostly by now, but with the army at one-half strength they should be easy to overcome."

Raven studied the treetop city for a moment, then swept an open palm over the interface, zooming out and giving her a better view of the surroundings. "Beastopia will not fall easily, no matter how few their numbers." She began in a steady voice. "I've heard tales of their king. A master commander, or so it is said. Besides, the jungle will be a treacherous land to cross."

In the pale glow of the map Slade seemed to smile under his mask. "The jungle has been nearly chopped down entirely by the very people it protects. You see, the plague was spread by a biting insect, whose name I can neither remember nor pronounce, that burrowed under the bark of trees. So in an attempt to stave off the disease, they stripped the forest down to its muddy soil. And as for the king," He chuckled dryly at what he must have taken as a personal favor from the universe. "He was stabbed in his sleep by a dieing servant, who blamed him for the suffering of his family by the disease he had no way of preventing. Along with his wife and two daughters. So you see, my dear, the only thing between us and the capital of Beastopia is a teenage boy, the heir to the kingdom, who somehow managed to survive."

"Oh." Raven relied dumbly, and then cursed her mouth. After a moment of thought she found something intelligent to say. In a dry voice she responded "I'm to lead the invasion, am I not?"

"Of course not." A booming voice answered from the other side of the room. "No daughter of mine would be given such a battle that any lowly foot solder could command."

Raven and Slade both spun on their heels to face the man, or more accurately, demon, who just entered the room, and as if pressed down by an invisible hand, both kneeled in union, heads bowed and eyes on the floor.

"My Lord." They greeted.

The red skinned king strode across the plush carpet to stand before his offspring. "I have a more interesting job for you." He spoke to her hair, but showed no intention of letting her rise. "We are to attack all five nations at once. Crushing each simultaneously so that they are unable to call for aid. I already have the armies in place, and ready to move on my command. Slade, you will be leading the slaughter of Beastopia and Tamaran. Raven, you will head the forces against Mechin and Gotham."

He brought his hand down suddenly on the top of his daughters head, and she gasped involuntarily. Her mind was flooded with Trigons liquid will, tearing at her mind for any thoughts of betrayal. She felt his dark energy rip through her with little regard for the consequences, with seemed an idiotic thing to do, as in a few hours she would be called upon to use her wits to fight a war in his name. But she stubbornly squelched that thought and let him rummage around as he pleased, knowing from experience that that would allow the search to go faster, and hopefully to cause less damage.

Seemingly satisfied, he withdrew his presence with a final fire-like whip of pain and turned to exit the way he'd came. His last words echoing off the walls. "We begin in two hours."

After she was certain he was gone Raven stood quickly, and immediately regretted it. The room spun, twisting in on itself in an _extremely _uncomfortable way, and she squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to stave off the impending nausea.

Then strong arms gripped her shoulders, and they snapped open again. "Perhaps you should go lay down." A silky voice whispered in her ear. "You're looking a bit _pale_."

Raven wretched herself from his grasp and spun around, fist colliding with the air exactly where his face had been a moment before. Now only his soft mocking laughter remained. So with as much dignity as she could muster, (which, giving with the unsteadiness of her steps, wasn't much) she stepped back through the golden door, and down the flickering entranceway.

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_Review! Review! It is all that keeps me breathing!… Well not really, because then I'd be very much dead, wouldn't I? But do you really want to take that risk?_

_With love,_

_Your faithful Authoress,_

_NumbuhZero_


	2. Prebattle War

As Raven reaches the hall entrance and pushes open the door she peers into the back of her mind and plucks out a spell that will teleport her away from the war chamber. She went through the trouble of using a spell because phasing, while energy saving, would expose her to the fire demons that constantly roamed the grounds outside her fathers palace. They may not be able to physically harm her, but they left scars all the same. Few are aware that phasing through a person, or any type of sentient being, leaves traces. And nightmares.

So with the memory of such a transaction that had occurred years before, Raven gritted her teeth and poured her life-force into a portal home. She felt the ground under her rip apart and fling her directly onto the soft cotton covers of her bed.

The sorceress allowed herself a moment to marvel at that fact that she had once again survived her father, _and _Slade, before hurling headfirst into the preparations that lay ahead.

She grimly began gathering everything that she'd need on such a venture. First she unclasped the silver linked belt that hung around her waist, and put in its place a blackened chain encrusted with rubies. Normally she would have to change her cloak, but the one she was required to wear in the presence of her father would suffice. Trigon was obsessed with red, a fact that was very depressing to someone who's favorite color was blue.

Next she checked over the jagged edged dagger that rested almost constantly atop her bureau. Unsheathing it showed that fact that it hadn't been cleaned sense its last use. It was a spelled blade, so upon wiping it off it gleamed in the dim candle light. Raven remembered her disgust at herself the last time she had returned home, the magical steel bloodied, and flinging it up there. She was unable, even that very night it had occurred, to remember the face of the man who's life she'd taken with it. All that lingered was the satisfaction of watching the light go out of his eyes, and the warm liquid that flowed over her hands stop.

The reason for such a state of mind lay in the last item she gathered.

It was a golden mask, four slits over the eyes, and twisting horns reaching out the top. It would rest against her face, and then seal itself into her skin. The horns would slide up and plant themselves into her skull, but the way it physically changed her was little compared to what it did to her mind. Everything that was uniquely her, ever fiber of her _self _was compressed into a tiny ball and hurled into the wasteland of her consciousness. All that was left was an overwhelming rage. This single emotion would pilot her body, driving her to do things that would leave her vomiting and weak any other time.

But this monstrosity was also a necessity, for there was no other way to do what she was commanded to. And to fail was to forfeit her will to her father, because anything that got in the way of his plans was wrested under his permanent control.

Raven held the mask in her left hand, planning to delay using it until the last moment. "Here I am again." She whispered to herself, face upturned to the ceiling and eyes closed. "Gambling with my soul to further a demon." She looked down at the glimmering face in her hands and sighed in defeat. There was always a chance that she would be unable to fight it for control and win at the end of the war. Her body would no longer be her own.

"Do not fret my dear." A soft voice whispered into her ear. "I will lose you to no one. Not even yourself."

Raven did not turnaround, deciding instead to answer back by calling him a very foul name.

To her surprise Slade didn't laugh, but instead tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "Do try not to enrage to many people with your tongue my dear, or someone might be tempted to cut it out." When she shifted away from his hand he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her towards him. She stiffened in his grasp and gathered her will for an attack, but before it could be launched he brushed his lips over the top of her head and released her. Raven dropped like lighting into a crouch and shot a thick beam of blackness at him, two fingers pressed to her temple. Slade evaded it in his usual fashion of leaping out of the way and into a back flip.

The half-demon glared at him from her place on the floor, eyes glowing white, lips pressed into a thin line. The masked man leaned casually against the wall and looked her up and down. "Stress is very bad for you my dear, and I want you in perfect health for our wedding night."

Raven blanched. Sure, Slade had made many insinuating comments in the past, hinting about his wish to marry her, but never so pointedly. She was shocked enough to let a very childish word slip through her lips. "Eww!" She could have said any number of witty comebacks, but no. Years of training herself to think before she spoke out the window just when they were needed most.

Slade's one visible eye hardened. "Am I that disgusting to you? Does the thought of me make you sick?" He advanced slowly on her, gaze burning holes in her face. "I've been very patient with you dear Raven, but I can't wait for you much longer. After I have won this war, you will be my Queen." He stood in front of her and crouched down until they were level. "Got that?"

It took a moment for his words to catch up with her dazed mind, but when it did she smirked at him. "Queen? As in, successor of my father? I don't think he's planning on stepping down for a very long time. And you're human Slade, you won't even live to see it."

"This is a war Raven. People die everyday."

"No," The sorceress stood up and drew her dagger from its place on her belt. "Humans do." Slade straightened up as well, not even glancing at the weapon she held, knowing full well that her mind was much more dangerous than the hunk of metal she held.

"Then why am I still alive?" He cocked his head to one side, and studied her. "Why haven't you killed me yet? I know I _infuriate _you. Have you finally excepted you destiny?"

Raven sheathed her dagger and phased through the floor, her final words echoing in a fashion parody to his earlier. "I take no stock in destiny."

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_Thank you to everyone who reviewed! I would love to thank you individually, but I just don't have time anymore. I'm rushed as it is. _

_So? What do you think? **Review! **_

_XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO_

_--Queen of the Gnomes,'_

_NumbuhZero_


	3. War Through a Golden Haze

_**Authoresses Note: **You must like totally hate me! It's been like, what, three months? Well, I do have a reason. My computer got some kind of freaky hardware virus, and I had to keep wiping and reinstalling my little memory-whatever-thingy. So any new chapter I was working on got erased. _

_Why no use a floppy you say? Well, you see, I sort of really hate floppies. Like, a lot. Or any kind of memory storage device outside a computer. As soon as I touch them they like, un-format or something. I tried it once, but it wouldn't let me retrieve the file. _

_So here you go, my computer's nifty and fixed now. Enjoy! _

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Raven sped quickly through the solid walls and doors of the castle, her movements unhindered. It was times like this, when nothing needed to be done but _move_ that she felt truly at peace. Even lying in her bed at night had lost its calming effect, as Slade had recently taken to popping in and staring at her from some corner of the room, for reasons as of yet a mystery.

That man. Where did he get off thinking he could scare her into submission. That if she found him lurking behind enough doorways she'd roll over and give herself up? But no, that couldn't be it. There had to be some deeper meaning. And voila, there it was, like really stinky, nasty, _filthy_ laundry. He wanted the throne. And the only way the ancient magic would except him as king would be for his queen to be of royal blood. But why did he have to be so _creepy _about it?

The half-demon just shrugged the question off as some kind of personality quirk that she'd never understand, and solidified outside the door that led to the stables. A hunched scarlet demon pulled the latch and ushered her inside, scuttling after her. A flaming skeletal horse (An overly theatrical show that her father insisted on) was quickly prepared and brought out. Raven mounted and it galloped, screaming, out into the courtyard.

The war preparations were being quickly carried out, the grounds covered in soldiers arming and organizing for battle. Wagons of food and supplies were being loaded along side catapults meant to launch flaming missiles over enemy walls. Winged demons soared overhead, some carrying burdens to be delivered elsewhere, others diving low and sparring with troops on the ground. These would be marching under Ravens command, Slade's army was, thankfully, on the other side of the city. They would be marching south, while the half-demons would be traveling in the opposite direction. Hopefully, he would die in battle, and she'd never have to see him again. But he always came back, just like a cold that way. Or the plague.

The air buzzed with anticipation for the upcoming battles, barely held in check by the captains that marched through the crowd and attempted to maintain order. It was the picture of entropy. If they didn't have blood on their claws soon, they would turn on each other and the attack would collapse before it began.

Raven urged her mount forward, one hand on the reins, the other gripping the golden mask. She looked out over the masses that streaked by as she sped headlong into the troops, disregarding the demons that had to dive out of the way to avoid being trampled by her steeds red-hot hooves. Then the deep resonating sound of a horn sounded and the crowd trembled with excitement, the call for battled rushed over them. A black pinprick appeared in the sky, and a massive clawed hand forced its way out. As the rest of the mammoth demon tore its way through the portal the scant bit of light that reached the kingdom vanished, eclipsed by the colossal Demon King.

The princess looked up at her father, knowing that the battle had officially begun, and gently placed the golden mask against her face, eyes screwed tightly shut against the assault she knew was coming. Like a living creature it reached out and clawed into her skin. Searing pain shot through her skull as the twisted horns planted themselves into bone. Then came the disorienting moment of not knowing who she was, or even _what _she was, before the mask shoved that part of her mind back into the deepest pits of her consciousness. When her eyes opened again there were four, and person that looked out of them was vicious, delighted in killing, and ruthlessly intelligent. The demon, for she could not truly be called anything else, gathered her power and spurred her flaming mount into a gallop towards her sire. Her only thoughts were of the slaughter to come.

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"The armies of Mechin and Gotham are coming out to meet us." A serpent-like scout informed the demon princess from its position on the ground. "They seem to have massed together, but their forces are minimal. Perhaps five hundred heavy robotic troops, and three thousand regular gunmen. They are traveling in what I can only assume they think is stealth." The creature snickered.

She frowned down at it. This couldn't be their only resistance. It was laughable from the two cities that were so stubborn in their vanity. They wouldn't fall without a fight. Something that would make their defeat that much sweeter. "They are both small nations. Our biggest worry isn't their militia, but the specialist forces. They will be sneaking in and weakening us before we even reach the city walls." The royal scanned the troops around her, and probed their minds for any strange thoughts. It took only a moment of searching to discover a soldier who had been listening with particular intensity to the scouts report, and her reaction.

She smiled without humor, and lashed out to catch him in her black magic's binding grip. "It seems they are already here. Send up the signal for an army wide head count. I want everyone who shouldn't be here brought to me alive."

The man she held struggled, then he looked up at her a smirked. "You won't win demon bitch." Raven snarled, and she felt, a second to late, that he had an electronic chip implanted in his brain. With a quick thought that she was unable to block, he sent out the news of his capture to whoever was listening for his reports. And then, in what was a mercy for him, it shorted itself out and liquefied his brain.

"Damn Mechins!" Raven roared and tossed his twitching body savagely to the ground. "They know we know." She stood for a moment, pondering how to best turn this to her advantage. Her eyes swept over her forces, camped between two miniature mountain ranges, with a river at their backs. I had taken some doing, and the death of half a troop of light infantry, but she was eventually able to coax the demons into some semblance of order. Possibilities raced across the surface of her mind, but when no brilliant plan immediately surfaced the gold-faced demon fell back on what she did best. Slaughter.

"Tell the troops to prepare themselves. We attack at nightfall." Raven felt the snake slither away to spread her message. As its presence faded she felt for a moment alone. The soldiers that had been moving about her, attending to their business, had fled at the first glimpse of her wrath on the Mechin spy. Her red cloak whipped around her legs, and the whistle of the wind assaulted her sensitive ears. Something in the back of her mind protested weakly to the horrible slaughter that was to come, but it felt somehow foreign and distant. The demon just shrugged it off and made her down to her army, feeling with satisfaction the horns atop her head slowly sink deeper into her skull.

Perhaps, this time, they would remain firmly in place.

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_**Authoresses Note II: **Sorry again for the wait. The next chapter will rock hard though. _

_You can't rush the set-up!_

_I also promise two things that are coming. _

_**1) **The other Teen Titans._

_**2) **More on Slade._

_**Now something special!**_

_**This is a sneak peek to the next chapter, but it won't be in the actual story. It's just a glimpse of what is happening in other parts of the world.**_

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_**BONUS SHORT-STORY: The Rise of a King**_

A hot jet of steam whistled out of the hot metal, set in place by delicate pressurized machinery. A dark-skinned teenager cursed and fumbled in his toolbox, for a panicked second not finding the tool he was searching for. Then his groping fingers grasped the familiar shaft of a wrench, and he hefted easily, wrapping its metal clamps around an offending bolt. With a soft grunt he twisted it savagely, and the air cleared.

He put the instrument down and surveyed his work with a critical eye. Every gear and wire gleamed up at him, each circuit sparkled with potential. He reached out and lovingly switched on the power. Immediately life burst into the inert pieces of metal, and a subtle hum filled the air. The boy, nearly a man, sighed contently and sat back, basking for a moment in the high that came from perfectly tuning a broken machine. But the moment quickly passed, as it always did, and he felt the flawlessness begin to almost inconspicuously decay. It could be years before this particular apparatus ever so much a hiccupped, but that was still to soon. So with a resigned sigh, he closed the hatch to the power generator, gathered his tools, and began the long trek back to his garage.

"Just a few more tries, I know I'll get it right." He mumbled to himself. "Infinite energy. Light rebounded. So simple." He palmed the lock and the metal door swooshed open in front of him. Discarded and broken bits of machinery were scattered across the huge workspace. Half completed projects pleaded gently for his attention, but he walked past all of them, and to the smooth silver orb at the back of the room. It was his greatest accomplishment, and all it would take to complete it was the right amount of a power boost, just enough to get it started, but not enough to overload its delicate glass circuitry. He kneeled down in front of it and gazed longingly into his distorted reflection, searching vainly for an answer. "What am I missing?"

"Victor!" A high-pitched voice echoed off the walls around him. "Victor, where are you?"

The teen rolled his eyes, and stood up. "Back here Mom." The greatest discovery in the history of Mechin was going to have to wait.

"What ever are you doing all the way back here?" She called, a slightly annoyed tone in her voice. "I need you!"

He began walking towards his mothers voice, shaking his head sadly. She thought his 'tinkering' in the workshop to be something he'd one day grow out of. She didn't understand what it was like to make things come alive with your own two hands, to feel the power of having your thoughts become _real_. She was just so… helpless. "Just follow my voice Mom." Of course he could find her with his sensors, but what fun would that be? Maybe a little time lost in the metal jungle would make her less likely to come barging in in the future.

"Erg, what _is_ all this stuff?" Something crashed to the ground a few yards, and few feet of solid steel, in front of him. "EEK! It BIT me! VICTOR STONE!" She screamed horribly.

Victor hastened his pace, flipping on the scanner mounted in his arm. It blipped her location, and he stopped in front of a ten foot high crate, the contents of which he couldn't quite remember. He bent down and wedged his fingers under it, then with a suppressed groan, lifted it over his head, and set in down behind him.

The Queen of Mechin, or Cyboress, eyes wide, crown askew, huffed at him from her perch atop a pile of half-finished robots. A tiny metal dog was snapping threateningly at her, and chasing its own tail. Victor reached down and plucked it up, flipping the off switch on its underside. "Now, what did you want Mom?"

She sniffed. "Well, if this wasn't such a dire situation, you'd be in serious trouble for that one mister." She put a foot out and stepped off the heap gingerly. Not a single robot moved.

"And what would that be?" To dire to chew him out for making, as his mother put it, 'dangerous thingies'?

She didn't even bother to straighten her dress, but looked him full in the eye. "We have to evacuate the castle."

The teen blanched. "What?"

The Cyboress reached out and took his hand, quickly leading her stunned son to the emergency pods at the _other_ end of the room. "You'd have heard all about it if you didn't horde yourself up in this _place, _and kept your communications on once in a while."

"But why didn't you send someone to get me?" His shocked mind slowly booting up again. "And what the hell is going on?"

"There's a war going on. And it seems that they've reached the castle." She led him to a steel door with red stripes slashing across it. She placed a shaky palm flat against the sensor, and the door opened. "As for the reason I didn't send anyone," She laughed humorlessly, and slid into the passenger seat inside the attached pod. "they have they're own families to save."

"A war?" He looked at his mother breathlessly as he clicked on his safety belt and began the start up systems. "Why don't I know about a war going on in my own god-damn kingdom?" His teeth ground together as he maneuvered the small ship away from the building and swung around to face the exit tunnel. Automatic controls kicked in and launched them out into the night. For a moment everything seemed calm, then the sound of gunshots and the roar of beasts reached the pod. "Christ. Why didn't you tell me!"

"It only started yesterday. We got word from Gotham of a massive force of demons moving towards our kingdoms. It could only mean one thing."

"Azarath is attacking." Victor said through a mouth suddenly gone dry.

"Exactly." He mother nodded. "We sent five hundred heavy troops forward to help, but we just weren't, aren't ready for something like this." He glanced back at his mother, who's chocolate complexion had paled, making her seem almost ghostlike. Her dark eyes were wide, and white knuckles gripped the armrests. "Your father, he went on ahead. To defend the kingdom." She closed her eyes and seemed to become smaller. "He told me, to tell you, that you would know what to do. You would know when the time came." She fell silent then, reality crushing her.

"Yeah." Victor turned back to the controls, and steered the escape pod away from the battle raging just outside the castle gates.

BOOM. The ship rocked violently, and a dozen lights suddenly began to flash red. The sucking sound of air and screeching of alarms penetrated the quite. The world tilted violently, as they plunged to the earth. The teen scrambled desperately at the controls, but nothing responded. Their escape pod had just become a coffin.

Just as he had given up, the ground halted its race towards them, and with a sickening jolt, the ship stopped in midair. A black cocoon had wrapped itself around them, and they were being lowered to earth. "What's going on?" He heard his mother whisper from the back. _I have no idea. _Was his unspoken response.

When they touched down the darkness retreated and all they could do was sit in shock and listen to the distant sounds of battle. Then it was back, and with vicious force, ripped the front end of the ship off and flung it away. Victor reached under his seat for the gun he knew was hidden there, but before he could touch it, it was lifted away from him in a coat of dark energy. A figure floated above them, and held out her hand for the weapon, curling its fingers around it. "Hello there. Not trying to escape the show I hope." A rough voice spoke. A glint of gold, and an outline of horns against the hood it wore was all the hint they got to the speakers identity. "The Cyborg wasn't rude enough to leave before the end. But then again, it did turn out to be _his_ end, now didn't it?" The voice was almost feminine.

"What have you done to my husband?" The Cyboress launched herself out of her seat, straight at the apparition. "Demon!" Like everyone in the city, she was half machine, but her enhancements were purely cosmetic. She had no more strength or speed than an average human, and with a flick of its hand, she went flying.

"Mom!" Victor ran towards her, but a wall of darkness stopped him a surely as a double reinforced steel wall. He spun to look at her attacker, who had turned to face him, though it's face was still hooded.

"Only half, actually. So you're the prince." It croaked. "What does it feel like to be the only royal Stone left?"

"What?" He glanced back at his mother, her breathing evident in the rise and fall of her chest. "What are you talking about?"

The demon just flung out an arm, and his mother was covered in darkness, then, with deliberate slowness, closed her hand into a fist. Victor flung himself at the barrier, pounding and screaming, but it didn't give. And then, through the transparency of the magic, saw his mother crushed into a ball, saved from her tortured cries by the very shield that stopped him from rescuing her.

He stood in shock for a moment, frozen in horrified silence. Then, his machine parts, normally hidden beneath a layer of prosthetic skin, began to glow and come alive. The full potential of his birth-rite sputtered into life and filled him with knowledge and power that could only be gained one way. He had just inherited the kingdom.

"So, _Cyborg," _It spat the title out like an insult. "Is it going to be as easy to conquer you as it was your father?"

The new Cyborg balled up his fists and flung himself at the monster who had torn apart his world. His right arm reassembled itself into a glowing cannon, and launched a bolt at the demon.

It dodged, flinging itself out of the way of the oncoming missile. "That's new." It whispered. But another barrage was already coming, and it was to busy not getting fried to say anything else. Then, a particularly hazardous shot passed, and its cloak caught on fire.

"Booya!" Cyborg shouted, and its cape was taken off and tossed aside. "Wha?" He looked over the figure that now stood, uncloaked, in front of him. It wore a horned and golden mask, red eyes peered out of four slits, but without any covering, one thing was clear. "You're a girl!" He yelled, attack momentarily forgotten.

"Yes." It answered softly, and raised two finger to its temple. Power surged through his mind, and overwhelmed him. His systems slowly booted down under the weight of black energy.

The demon stood over him for a moment, ready to make the killing strike, when a presence shoved its way into her mind. _Bring the royal children to me. I may have some use for them. _He left just as suddenly, his booming thoughts still echoing through his daughters skull.

Raven looked down at the unconscious prince, now king, before her. The false skin that covered his machine side had burned away to reveal shining blue metal. "Yes father." She whispered aloud, and hoisted him up with her magic. "Whatever you say."

Gold glinted with malice as the Demon Princess picked her way through the wreckage and back to the war.

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_**Authoresses Note III: **lol, that was longer than the actual chapter. But you deserved it for waiting. So, Chow For Now! And Cya later!_

_**Also,** whoever can tell me (first) what TBC means, and why people put it at the end of their chapters gets a hug. And, Give me your name and I'll use it in my next chapter!_

_XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO_

_--Queen of the Gnomes,_

_NumbuhZero_


	4. Rising Insanity

The demon princess paced silently in her tent, feet faltering every few steps only to regain their steady rhythm a second later. Deep behind the enchantment Raven fought decidedly to reclaim her body, and was slowly being overwhelmed. Sweat poured down her neck, and shimmered softly on the her brow. Her face was contorted in distraction beneath the golden mask seared into her skin, but superficially her countenance was calm and collected. Ironic, considering that that face was the one she'd strived to perfect after years of living in the service of her father. And now it was a curse.

Raven's 'self' strained against her bonds again but felt then once more snap rigid and hold, unyielding to both her fighting and silent pleading. _Oh gods. What have I done._ She floated mutely in a sea of self-pity, mentally berating herself for waiting so long to regain control. _Now it's too late. _She felt the pain the mask was wreaking with her body, felt the souls drain out of countless bodies.

She lamented soundlessly for the slaughter that she could not stop, grief magnified because she couldn't even shed a tear for them.

0 0 0

In the murky skyline of Gotham one figure raced above the rooftops, steps quick and assured. A complete contrast to the pandemonium below. The entire city was one screaming mass of panic, flooding down the streets in an attempt to escape the demonic army that snapped at their heels. Every few seconds one shriek would rise above all the rest, only to be cut off moments later. The monsters weren't just killing, they were like giant house cats, playing with their prey.

A snarl behind him made the figure leap backwards off the building and twist in the air, a small disk flew from his hand and imbedded itself in the wolf-like creature crouched on the rooftop. It howled in rage and then exploded in a shower of gore just as its would be prey landed skillfully on the sidewalk below. The masked teen didn't even take a moment to get his bearings, but launched into a savage attack on the nearest thing that wasn't human.

In mere minutes he had built up a staggering wall of bodies around him. The few demons that had survived the encounter darted away in hopes of finding an easier meal. He panted heavily and leaned against a blood streaked wall, eyes scanning the street around him. It was completely devoid of life and littered with corpses.

Not all of them demons.

Richard Grayson knew that he had no chance of winning this battle alone. But he was the only one left. Everyone else had been shipped off to fight along side the Mechin army. Even the ruler of Gotham, Bruce Wayne, had gone to the war. And Richard knew, without any doubt, that he had been killed.

"_I'm sorry Dick." Alfred put a hand on his shoulder, trying to offer some kind of comfort as their world dissolved around them. But the butlers hand was shaking, and a moment later he lifted it to his mouth and coughed raggedly. He'd been sick for almost two months now, and was showing no sign of improving. "One of the Mechin cameras saw… it. You know how those people are. Even in the face of death they want records of everything. But I am _not_ going to tell you who did it Dick. The last thing we need now is to be seeking revenge." He looked his charge in the eye and fixed him with an unwavering gaze. "He wouldn't want you to get yourself killed over nothing. He would want you to be careful."_

"Well, he isn't here anymore." Richard said out loud. _No, not Richard. Richard Grayson is dead. This war killed him. _

Robin stood up straight and took a deep breath, readying himself for another fight. The city was still teeming with demons in need of slaying, and people in need of saving.

"You know," A rough, slightly female voice said from behind him. "talking to yourself is a sign of insanity."

The teen spun around, birdarang in both hands, and stared at the red cloaked figure that had snuck up on him. Four glowing red eyes gazed at him from under its, no, definitely her, hood. "Well well." He responded icily. "if it isn't her Majesty, the Princess of Darkness. I was wondering when you'd show up." He bent his knees slightly, prepared to attack the moment she moved.

She didn't appear to be surprised that he knew her identity. "So you're crazy _and _smart. A rare combination. You'll do just fine in Azarath. That is, of course, if you aren't eaten." She tugged her hood down, baring her golden face to the world. The she lifted her hands above her head, and began gathering a ball of dark energy.

But Robin was already ahead of her. The second her arms began to move skyward _he _was moving toward her, throwing birdarangs at her shining face and back-flipping out of the way of energy bolts she was hurling at him. But as his projectiles were inches from their mark she seized then with her power and flung them back at him. He dodged effortlessly, and turned to make another assault only to see his own weapons change direction and make a b-line for his face. He darted away again and they followed. _Brilliant Robin. _He chastised himself. _Throw the heat seekers. She's probably cold blooded anyway. _Then he felt his feet bind together and he slammed face first into the ground. He turned on his back and looked wide eyed at the missiles as they prepared to bury themselves in his skull.

A moment later there was a blinding light followed by the merciful embrace of unconsciousness.

0 0 0

Raven inspected the boy at her feet, and was both surprised and pleased to discover that he was alive. His pretty face was a bit battered but he'd likely heal without any scars. It was lucky that she'd decided to slow down the attack before it hit or he would probably have perished. Lucky because she would have had to explain to her father how she'd let him die.

She lifted him into the air behind her and frowned to herself. Her mission was finally over. Both kingdoms had fallen, and she would have to go home. Of course some of the army would stay behind to keep control over the cities, but her part was complete.

The demon felt the blood rage draining out of her limbs and gritted her teeth in frustration. This whole attack had been entirely to easy, and now there was no one left to kill. So with a sigh of regret she transformed into her spirit bird and flew over the defeated city towards Azarath. Stopping only long enough to gather a sleeping Cyborg King.

0 0 0

**Authoresses Note: **There you go. That was a pathetically long time. I won't even comment on it because it was so sad.

**Authoresses Note II:** As for me using a name, the only one I got was from Dark Dragon34, but evilsangel is the one who answered my question. - I'm open to suggestions on this thing. If I get evilsangel's  name I'll put it in somewhere.

PEACE OUT YA'LL!

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

--Queen of the Gnomes,

NumbuhZero


	5. Realizing Something Formerly Untrue

Disclaimer: Me no own Teen Titans. If I did, this would be a movie, not a FanFic.

0 0 0

The darkness of the tent held Slade in a lovers embrace, the quiet black being the only reason behind the pavilion's heavy material. It was bulky and difficult to pack, and truth be told it would easily catch fire, but hey, he was worth it. An added bonus that he'd discovered along the way was that it blocked out the sickening smell of the forest.

Slade's army was currently occupying, or 'looting' as some called it, the city of Beastopia. A few even referred to his troops actions as 'genocide', but really, what do they know? The masked man sat stiffly in a heavily upholstered chair that had at one point belonged to the royal family, and scanned a document clutched in his hands. It was a set of orders from Trigon. He was to take the heirs of each kingdom back to his own. Specifically, they were supposed to be "basically alive". Slade rolled that concept around in his mind but couldn't fathom where the demon had gotten the phrase from.

So, by "basically alive", does he mean zombies? Floating heads in a jar maybe? He just shrugged and dropped the paper into the small brazier on the floor and watched it be consumed by flames. Outside the tent echoed the sounds of creatures moving about, hastily packing up camp and herding the few surviving Beastopian and Tamaranian citizens into slave carts. They would be taken back to Azarath and sold to the highest bidder, the lions share of the profit going to Trigon, the rest to be split among the soldiers.

Slade moved silently out of his tent, heading towards where the two royal brats were chained up and being readied for transportation. As he approached he heard the ear splitting sound of metal being forcefully ripped apart, and the blood curdling war call of a Tamaranian warrior. Slade quickened his pace, and in a few moments came upon a scene of chaos.

Nearly three dozen guards were struggling to restrain a tall orange-skinned girls. She shouted unintelligent gibberish, and pulled at the thick chains that held her. Her hands were, thankfully, still encased in the steel gauntlets that kept her from using her energy bolts, and from the look of it she was still to young to use her eyes. The pair were glowing an angry emerald, but no balls of fire burst from them. Slade barked out an order to the men as he approached, and one gave a hasty salute and sprinted off into the crowd.

As he neared the girl stopped struggling and stared at him, obviously recognizing him as the one in charge. Or maybe she remembered his face from when he tore out her fathers heart, right in from of her eyes, and crushed it in his hands. Either way, she gave him her full attention. "Now, are you going to come along peacefully?" He asked softly. "Or am I going to have to sedate you?"

She just looked at him, her smooth brow became scrunched in confusion, her eyes however, still glowed a heated green. She shook her head, meaning that she didn't understand him. The masked man sighed, knowing of no clear way to get his words across, so in a compromise he moved foreword with catlike agility and slammed his fist into her face.

"Ah well." He said to the guards who began to carry her off and seal her in an armored wagon. "It seems our dear princess will be sick during her journey. How unfortunate." He spared only a quick glance at the carriage that held the Beastopian prince, as his best attempts at escape caused his prison to rock slightly, but nothing more. But even that little bit could slow them down if it continued.

"Drug both the prisoners food and water during the trip." Slade instructed the troops commander. "If either of them escape I won't kill you." As the one eyed man moved away the soldier shivered. In the hands of a man like that, death can only be a release. 

0 0 0

The high walls of the Azarathian empire glowed ominously in the moon light. Atop the barrier stood thousands of fiery warriors, standing constant guard. Never changing shifts, never eating, never looking away, they were the perfect soldiers. But, sadly, they couldn't go more than ten miles from the city without dissolving into a puff of black smoke. And so they were destined to spend eternity watching the walls, waiting silently and without complaint for the day the attack came.

But that day was no today, and they stayed unmoving as two armies approached, one form the north, the other the south. A great cheer rose from the people of the city as its soldiers returned.

Conquering hero's.

Slaughterers of the helpless.

Murderers.

And damned to an eternity in hell as soon as this one was over.

0 0 0

Raven ghosted silently down the entrance hall of the castle. The gruesome portraits on the wall looked strangely appealing now, and the flickering torchlight no longer set her on edge. Completely demon now, the young woman no longer feared her heritage. And with a confidence never felt before, made her way towards the king's throne room, and to face her father.

But a moment before she stepped through the door a voice rang out behind her. "Well now." It called jauntily. "Aren't you going to welcome me back before the meeting? I'm sure you've missed me as much as I've longed for you." Raven turned and looked over at the masked man behind her. He was striding easily down the hall, a black cloak billowing from his shoulders, and a quiet defiance in the tilt of his skull. As he reached her he stared into the depths of her hood and shook his head sadly. "Are you still wearing that thing darling? I thought you would have outgrown it by now."

Raven laughed dryly and pulled down her head covering, revealing the shining golden mask still planted firmly against her face. "We've become very attached."

Slade's eye narrowed in anger. "Take it off." He ground out.

"Who are you, mortal, to presume to command me?"

"I'm your fiancée." He replied. And during the split second it took for her mind to catch up with his words his hands darted out and he wedged his fingers under the edge of the mask. And pulled. A terrible screeching filled the hall as the mask was slowly pried off the demons face, and the horns slid into their proper place. Black energy glowed in Raven hands, and she began to attack, but before she could land a blow the golden monstrosity was completely free and it skidded across the plush floor and clattered to a stop against the opposite wall, its eyes staring blankly at the two of them.

Raven swayed where she stood, and began to fall, but Slade wrapped one strong arm around her waist and pulled her close. They stood together for a full minute, both just trying to get their breath after that close call.

It had almost been too late.

"You know." Raven said softly after a few more seconds, her head buried against his chest. "This doesn't mean I like you." She pulled away, still not quit steady on her feet, but refusing his offers to help. She turned away, and the pair walked through the door and into the War Room.

0 0 0

Authoresses Note: There you have it. One more chapter. Enjoy.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXO --Queen of the Gnomes,  
NumbuhZero 


	6. The Bidding of a Demon

The air in the War Room was thick with the smell of decay, though no fighting had taken place within its walls. It was the sickening scent of Trigon, perched atop his throne. The demon lived for death and destruction, and it would be weeks before the stench was toleratable. Even longer before it became undetectable to human senses. It would never disappear completely.

The two commanders kneeled before him, and waited for him to speak.

"It has begun." His voice boomed, echoing off the stone walls as well as inside their skulls. "The armies of the enemies have been reduced to near nothing, and our control is almost complete. Only a few pockets of resistance still remain, and those can be easily dealt with." The demon pulled back his lips in a sneer, revealing rows of sharp teeth. "Slade, you will begin the job of cleaning up the countries and readying them to be untied under my rule. I have left instructions for you in the western barracks."

Slade paused a moment, then, recognizing the dismissal, gave a final bow before sweeping out of the room.

Raven let out a silent breath as Slade, but knew deep down that his absence could only mean more trouble for her. What would come next would be something too important for anyone but her to hear, and that could only be bad. "The only surviving members of the other royal houses are currently residing in our dungeon. Do you know why I let them live?"

The half-demon remained silent for a moment, rummaging frantically through her mind in an attempt to answer. Then the scene from Mechin was trust up from the rotting place where she stored her thoughts from the war. "Royal inheritance?" She ventured after a moment.

"Exactly." Trigon answered, and Raven relaxed slightly. "Each of those _beings _has inherited the rule of their kingdoms, and the power that comes with it. I will have that power."

"How will you do that? Have you not captured their cities and slaughtered their people?" The young woman shivered beneath her cloak, seeing flashes of the war, and though these memories were not complete they were all disgusting. She vaguely remembered pulling the bones of a mans fingers out through his skin to make him reveal the location of a civilian bunker. She could have read his mind, but she preferred to torture him. She had laughed as he sputtered his answer, words barely coherent through the thick stream of blood gushing out of his mouth, and the half useless tongue he had bitten near off in an attempt to keep himself quite. She then left him to be finished off by her demon troops.

"I will do nothing. Killing them will not help me. The ancient laws must accept me as ruler or I can never fully be their king, and you will find a way to make this happen." He stood from his throne and strode over to her, motioning for her to rise. He placed the palm of one hand against her face, and caressed the skin their, paler than usual from the mask. "You have been using it I see." He looked at her with an emotion that could almost be described as pity. "Your mothers blood runs strong in you, but weak enough, I hope, not to stop you from your duties."

"Nothing could stop me from doing you will." She responded faintly. His close proximity was making her light-headed, as if she were leaning over the side of an unfathomably high tower, powerless and being drawn toward the ground. Being in the same room with him was dancing with death, standing this close was suicide.

He left his hand drop to his side. "Good. Now go and do it." He continued to watch her, and Raven was only to happy to bow her way out of his presence.

0 0 0

Raven stepped out of the War Room and into the long hallway. She stood there for a moment, collecting her thoughts. She would have to do some research, and find a way to accomplish Trigons wishes, but at the moment she couldn't muster the energy to begin. She would start the next day, and devise a plan of action. But for the moment the only thing she could focus on was a hot bath, then bed.

She had just begun weaving a portal when a figure imuged from behind a stone collum. Raven glared at the approaching man, but let her magic die in her hands. "What do you want?"

Slade stopped and held the golden mask out infront of him. "This _thing_ may be dangerous, but it may come in handy in the future." Though not a flicker of emotion crossed her face it was clear she would rather cut off her right hand then take the object from him. "Besides," he continued, "it is always foolish to leave ancient magical artifacts laying around the palace. Sticky-fingered maids and all that." Raven looked at it a moment longer before tucking it into a pocket of her cloak. The pair stood together in the silence that followed, and after a moment Raven decided she had best dismiss him before he came up with some excuse to follw he back to her room instead of follow her fathers orders.

"Don't you have someplace to be?"

Slade laughed, and leaned toward her slightly. "No, the mission doesn't start until tomorrow. We have the whole night and well into the morning." One of his arms was suddenly pulling her to him, and with an undignified squeal that undermined the image she tried daily to maintain she ported to her room, leaving a smirking Slade behind.

0 0 0

The next morning Raven awoke with the fading memory of a nightmare behind her eyes, though she had slept with no less then a dozen dream catchers around her bed. What little she remembered of the nightmare made her shiver in the warm air of her bedroom. Some of them were old memories, some of them were new. All of them were terrifying. She imagined that they could only catch so much before they no longer worked.

After a shower and fresh change of clothes she began her research in the library. She spent nearly an hour sifting through the thousands of volumes of text before she found one that even came close to being useful. But after just a few short pages she realized that she had no way of doing any of this as she was now.

The power could only be given through a bond of blood (But neither she nor Trigon were related to any of them, at least to her knowledge.), or given freely. She need to win their trust, something the spawn of a demon could never hope to gain.

She needed a new identity.

0 0 0

**Authors Note: **Yes, it's been forever. I know, and I'm sorry. But what can I say? I'm lazy.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

--Queen of the Gnomes, and Empress of Procrastination,

NumbuhZero


	7. The Plan to Damn the World

The room had the strange feeling of being both immeasurably huge and all together too small at the same time. If one were to enter this room uninvited they would be able to stand in the ornate doorway and see before them an almost unending darkness, stretching out in all directions. That is, except for a tiny pinpoint of light, somewhere in the distance. They would barely be able to come to the conclusion that it was coming rapidly closer, when they would, in a rather messy and unexpected manner, die.

That was because the light that they were so engrossed in, was, in fact, the reflected candlelight off a silver dagger (silver in the off chance that in was a werewolf or some other creature of the same ilk that had stumbled stupidly across the door, and, on a whim or with evil intent, had opened it.) that was kept on a hook by the door as a way of dealing with unwelcome visitors. A tall graying man in a black suit would then wipe the blood, (or whatever substance) off the dagger with a silk handkerchief, hang the weapon back on the wall, and dispose, in the most professional manner possible, of the body.

This kind of thing happened at least twice a week, and the owner of the room refused the graying mans suggestion of locking the door. It was, the owner explained, quite an effective way of purging the castles gene pool of the overly weak minded.

0 0 0

It was a rather average night a few days after the armies return to the castle that Slade sat at his desk (Which seemed to him to be only about twenty feet from the door) writing up a document that would enact a plan to root out what few rebels survived in Tamaran. He sat in near darkness, and silence complete save for the scratching of his quill against paper (He had quite a number of pens, but they never seemed to carry the same official edge), and the almost imperceptible sound of his breath escaping his lips and getting trapped behind his mask.

A few moments later he straightened, rolled the document up, sealed it, and passed it to a man standing off to the side. "Wintergreen, make sure this reaches the Third Division by sundown." The man bows, careful not to wrinkle his immaculate black suit, and strides soundlessly out of sight.

Slade leaned back in his chair, resting his head against one hand and eyeing the screens in front of him. Scenes from various places in the castle played out before him, and he watched with practiced ease for anything out of place.

Nearly an hour later his eye strayed over a young dark skinned girl, arms laden with heavy trays of food, make her way down a stone hallway, and then turn rather unexpectedly into the corridor leading to the dungeons. He reached out and brushed a finger over the girl on the screen, and sat back again as the image magnified, and he saw what had made her catch his eye in the first place. The way she moved carrying the trays was with the awkward nature of someone wholly unaccustomed to doing it. And a moment later he saw a tiny covered bowl begin to slide to the edge of one of the trays. It teetered dangerously on the edge before tipping over and beginning its short flight toward the ground. A few inches before impact, however, it stopped, and the dark girl nodded slightly at it, and it soared up, back onto the tray.

Slade stared at the screen a moment longer before leaning back his head and laughing loudly. "Oh, so that's the game, is it?" He whispered to himself once he had finally calmed down enough to breathe properly.

He gave the screen one last glace before he spun his chair around and strode from the room, stopping long enough to stab a young demon through the head as it stood transfixed by the illusion spell in the doorway.

0 0 0

Raven made her way along the dark dungeon corridor, concentrating on keeping the heavy tray of food from crashing to the floor and making the loud noise that she was trying so very hard to avoid. A moment later her step faltered as the butter dish attempted to escape by throwing itself off the side of the platter. Reacting on ingrained reflex she caught it with her mind and set it back, wedging it firmly between the basket of rolls and the roasted chicken. It took a moment for her actions to catch up with her, and when she did she had to resist the urge to smack herself. It was just that kind of crap that would ruin this plan before it had even begun.

The princess continued on toward the high security cells, praying that no one had seen her slip up. But after a few minutes passed and no alarm was raised she allowed herself to relax and once again assume the role of a serving maid.

It had taken quite a while to decide how best to gain the trust of the royal prisoners. Being herself was eliminated right away as impossible. They would never hand over their kingdoms to the girl who was not only the child of the cruelest demon to ever walk the plains of this dimension, but also the murderer of their people and families. A fellow prisoner was also not an option. It would too excessively limit her movement and resources, and while they may pity her, they would have no reason to think that trusting her would do them any good.

The only possible way was to be a servant; someone who hated demons with the same fervor as them, and was also capable of bringing them news from the outside. Modified, of course, to fit the needs of her plan. But this servant needed to be someone they could learn to trust; someone they would depend on. Staying a female was her first choice, as it eliminated a few possible complications, and gave the added illusion of innocence. She darkened her skin in an effort to hide the paleness that was so recognizable, and grew out her hair to further hide their similarities. But the final touch, and the one she was most proud of, was a mechanical left arm. This would gain their sympathy, and give evidence that she was not a born Azarathian.

Or so she hoped.

After a few more minutes she reached the end of the twisting corridors, and stopped in front of a solid wooden door. It was heavy nine inch thick oak, harvested hundreds of years ago from the most ancient forests of Beastopia. But it was not only its thickness that allowed it to so successfully contain even the most powerful of prisoners; it was the thousands of hex marks, seals, and enchantments that were imbedded into its grain. There were five doors such as this in the dungeon, the creation of each costing the lives of a dozen Sages, and the blood of a hundred innocents.

Well worth it in the eyes of Trigon.

Raven set the heavy tray on a stone bench that sat against the wall, and placed a quarter of the food onto one of the much smaller trays were stacked atop its lager counterpart. After taking a moment to gather her nerves she stepped up to the ancient door, then through it.

0 0 0

On the other side Raven had barely enough time to register the darkness of the room before a hard blow cracked against the side of her head. She stumbled back against the door, its enchanted wood colliding with her back, refusing to allow her escape. The tray crashed to the floor, food rolling in every direction and the jug of apple cider splashing across the cold stone. She blinked back the pain and reared in every one of her instincts that screamed for a counter attack, as recently exercised in the heat of battle as they were. The internal clashing of will was almost physically painful, causing her limbs to tremble with effort, and her eyes to sting. But there was little time to gather her senses, as a moment later she was hauled up by the collar of her cotton apron, and swung against the rough masonry of the wall.

"Who are you? What do you want? Who do you work for?" A young man demanded. The cords in his neck stood out in a barely restrained fury. Or rather, unrestrained fury.

Raven gasped and struggled to remember the background she had cooked up in her room that morning. "I was sent by the-" Her head swam and her magic pressed against the back of her eyes, begging to be let loose. At the pause in her words she was lifted higher off the ground, and pressed harder against the stone. "-the kitchen staff. To bring your food." She coughed out weakly. She began to hear a roaring in her ears, and after another painful moment she was lowered to the ground.

The strong hands that had been strangling her less than a minute earlier now gripped her shoulders as she choked on her bruised airway. Her oxygen deprived brain panicked at the contact, and she lashed out, pushing him back and setting off a fit of coughing. Her lungs burned in her chest, and she seemed unable to take anything but short gasping breaths.

0 0 0

A few feet away the youth watched guiltily as the girl who had apparently come to do nothing more diabolical than deliver a tray of food, (and he was _starving_) massaged her throat and managed to finally get her breathing under control. She looked up at him warily from her position on the floor.

Their eyes met for a moment before the girl glanced down quickly and hoisted herself stiffly to her feet, wincing as she stretched the injured muscles in her legs and back. "I'm sorry about that." She said quietly, her voice sounding scratchy and pained. "I should have knocked." She was apologizing. To him. For not knocking on a prison cell door and then getting attacked for doing her job.

God. If he didn't feel like a jerk before, he did now. "No." She jumped and took a step back. "I mean, no, you don't need to be sorry." He hurried on. "I should be sorry. I am. Sorry that is. You didn't do anything." He ran a hand through his spiked hair, wondering what to say that would make up for trying to strangle her. "I'm Robin by the way."

She seemed to consider this, and opened her mouth as if to answer when the wooden door began to glow, signaling that someone was coming through. The girl glanced back with a gasp of surprise, and Robin dropped into a defensive stance, ready to attack if this arrival proved to be more dangerous than the last. A tall masked figure appeared a moment later, a long black cloak whipped out behind him as he stepped out of the portal. He glanced around the cell, his single eye lingering for a moment on the spilled tray, and the girl that was now eyeing him with open hostility, before settling on him.

"My, my, what kind of fun have you two been having?" He teased lightly.

Robins masked eyes narrowed. "Who are you?" From the looks the girl was giving him, his presence could mean nothing good.

"I'd merely come to check up on a few prisoners," he began, ignoring the question, "when I heard the most god awful racket coming from this cell. I though it was my duty to investigate. Lest someone attempts to kill themselves before they can be properly questioned. That would be most foolish." He leaned toward them, covering one side of his face with a hand, as if he were sharing a secret. "I hear that Trigon has something special planned, and he's inviting all the prisoners to join in." He straightened up. "You wouldn't want to miss it."

A muscle in Robins jaw twitched, but he refused to be baited. "Well, we're both fine here, so why don't you get the hell out and scurry back to whatever hole you crawled out of."

The man laughed at this. "I do believe it is you who is currently living in a hole." He glanced back at the girl. "And speaking of holes, you look familiar." He moved quickly towards the girl, snaking one hand out to tangle in her hair. "Have I fucked you before?"

She pulled back a fist and lunged for his head, her eyes almost glowing with anger. "I make it a point to avoid you, Slade." He caught the attack in the palm of his free hand and used it to jerk her closer to him.

That was it. No more playing around. Robin launched himself forward and swung a punch at Slade, intent on forcing him to release his hold on the girl. But at the last second Slade spun around, placing his captive between them. The spiky haired hero managed to change the course of the attack at the last second and instead open his palm and push off the wall, once again intent on breaking them apart.

Slade, however, continued to dodge, each step bringing them closer to the door, and with a final mocking laugh he ducked through it, taking the struggling girl with him, and leaving him once alone once again.

Robin screamed in frustration and slammed a steel-toed boot into the door. It caused no more damage than the other ten-thousand times he'd tried. With a last pained glance he began to clean up the mess on the floor. Better to keep busy than continue to worry about the future.

And what horrible things Slade would do to that girl.

"Crap. I never even found out her name."

0 0 0

On the other side of the door Raven finally let her pent up magic out, and it slammed full force into Slade's chest, knocking him hard against the opposite wall.

"What the hell was that?" She demanded, eyes leaking black magic. "If you ever touch me like that, or compromise my plans again I will string you up from the rafters. Do you have any fucking idea what will happen to me if I can't get what I need out of that prince? Trigon will kill me for it! And I am not going to get my soul sucked out, and my body zombified because you want to play mister big and bad in front of the prisoners!"

Slade straightened his clothes and brushed the dust off, ignoring her. "Oh, is that you, Raven?" He smirked under his mask when she bristled with rage. "Alright, alright, so I had a little fun. I didn't mean to get you in a huff."

"You were spying on me!"

"When have I ever spied on you?"

"…"

"I see your point. Fine, I'm sorry. There. Feel any better?"

Raven marched up to him and stabbed a glowing finger into his chest. "You are up to something. And I am going to find out what. But right now I have work to do. So shove off."

Slade brushed her accusing finger away and crossed his arms over his chest. "And what kind of work required you to play dress-up so early in the year?"

"Orders from Trigon. Orders that _you_ are getting in the way of. So unless you want an angry demon lord chewing on your ass, I suggest you go back to your _own _work, and leave me to do _mine_." Even with her dark skin she was flushed with anger, and a degree of embarrassment. "Gods know this will be hard enough with out you getting in the way."

Slade sighed and patted her lightly on the top of the head. "Why can't we seem to get along, Hun?" She punched him in the nose. "It must be your fighting spirit. You are so much like a wild horse." He grabbed her wrist as it moved to repeat its attack, then the other, and spun her around, pulling her arms behind her back and twisting them painfully.

"Azarath, Mentrion, Zin-" Her chant was cut off by a gasp of surprise.

"I _will_ break you to the saddle." He released her and jumped back in one fluid motion, his mask back in place, and the smoke of his escape already dissipating by the time she turned around.

"Did you just _bite me_?"

0 0 0

**The note of the Author:** Yeah, it's been like, what, a year? It's been a long time. I know that. I very long time. I understand that an extra long chapter wasn't worth the wait, but I can only hope it makes you want to kill me less.

So anyway, I was reading through my old chapters and finding buckets of mistakes. That's right _buckets of them_. They make me feel pretty silly, so I'll eventually get around to fixing them. But as it is I'm counting on you, the readers, to be smart enough to figure out what I mean.

I think at some point I use the word imgured, or something like that, in place of "emerged". I'm sorry. Forgive me?

**Read this note please:**

And also, you may have noticed a slight change in character personality.

Just to be clear, Raven was acting the part of a serving girl (who would not have magic powers, nor any fighting ability), which is why she got caught by Slade so easily in the cell, and why she didn't escape from Robins hold. I tried to make that as crystal as I could, but I just want to make sure.

My language has also been cranked up a notch, as has my rating. This is mainly because I wanted Slade to say the word "Fuck". I've been yearning for it forever, and finally saw my chance.

With love,

NumbuhZero


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